Crazy For This Girl
by Thorne Lockehart
Summary: "And I don't know why, but she's changed my mind." What happens when two best friends are destined to be much more? A little ficlet that wouldn't leave me and Rain alone. Denver/Izzy femslash Remaining T. Don't like? Don't read. Like and read it? Review
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: Because this little plot bunny wouldn't leave me and Rain alone... This is going to be a mini-story...because Sancino is far too awesome to be contained in just one chapter_**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own anyone in this fic with the exception of Isabella Pacino, Denver Sandusky is owned by RaiN-n-Rizzlesgal blah blah blah..._**

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><p><em>And I don't know why<em>

_But she's changed my mind_

_Would you look at her? _

_She looks at me_

_She's got me thinking about her constantly_

_But she don't know how I feel_

_And she carries on without a doubt_

_I wonder if she's figured out_

_I'm crazy for this girl, yeah I'm crazy for this girl_

Evan and Jaron — Crazy For This Girl

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><p>Women. There was something about them that never ceased to amaze Isabella. She didn't believe in labels; she did whatever she wanted with whoever she wanted, men or women. She'd had her fair share of boyfriends, girlfriends, and one-night stands, but none that had ever really meant anything.<p>

Until Denver Sandusky. The dirty-blonde woman had this sense about her that made something stir in Isabella and she didn't know what.

Denver had a strong, sensual way about her that never ceased to capture the attention of everyone in the room. Isabella didn't even know how her attraction to her best friend had gotten started, but all she knew was that it had happened.

Yes, she did. It had all gotten started when Danny had flirted mercilessly with Denver a few months ago and she had felt a strong, protective surge run through her. It had taken Isabella everything in her to not go over there and corral Denver away from him.

When her heart had raced just those few beats faster when she looked into Denver's pretty brown eyes, Isabella knew she was in trouble. The two were exact opposites from height to physical appearance to attitude. Denver was a mild-mannered dirty blonde with brown eyes standing at five foot six, Isabella was a feisty, raven-haired, blue-eyed fireball standing at five foot two. Of course, they had joked about men, but lately, it seemed as if Denver were serious lately.

_"Who needs men when you've got the best girlfriend?" Denver had declared boldly. When her brown gaze had fixed on Isabella, her heart rate had accelerated._

Isabella rubbed the back of her neck, her head craning a bit as she stood in the bathroom. When the mess that was her relationship with Don Flack had gone down, Denver had been her saving grace.

Isabella Rae Pacino wasn't the type to ever consider a _relationship_, one with feelings and commitment...she was more of the hookup, friends-with-benefits type for sure. In a perfect world, Don Flack was her match. The two were peas in a pod, but she had difficulty seeing him as anything but a hookup or a FWB.

But she was having trouble getting the taller CSI out of her head. Everywhere Isabella went - try as she might - everything reminded her of Denver. She found herself scanning the room for her and felt a sense of calm when she did find her. The two were inseparable; they were never without the other and the times they were together were some of the best in her life. There more inside jokes between them than actual jokes that could be explained, such as 'little mini guitar.'

It had happened when they had gone to a music store to look at some new strings for Isabella's guitar. Denver had stood to watch a man play a ukulele to the tune of Train's "Hey, Soul Sister."

_"Look, Izzy! It's a little mini guitar!" she had called to her. Isabella took one look at the ukulele before dissolving into a fit of giggles. "Isn't it cute?"_

_"Den, that's a ukulele. Like they play in those dorky Hawaiian movies?" she tried to explain in a way without embarrassing her. _

_"I like those allegedly dorky Hawaiian movies," Denver declared as she strode over her. _

Ever since then, it had been a running joke between them.

Isabella sat down in her car with her eyes tightly closed and her head against the seat. There was no escaping it now.

She, Isabella Rae Pacino, was in love with her best friend.

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><p>When Denver thought of Isabella, she thought of a panther. Panthers were sleek, seductive, and purposeful with killer instincts — literally. The tiny raven-haired woman was a wildcat, in more ways than one. According to Don, she was a wildcat in the bedroom. Everyone at work saw the Isabella that the North Carolina native put on as a mask, but Denver saw the real Isabella. She saw the goofy, little-girl, carefree side of Isabella that had never ceased to make her laugh.<p>

"What an embarrassing cliche," Denver sighed aloud. Danny gave her a strange look as he turned to face her. When she realized she had spoken out loud, she felt her face warm. "I just remembered something I watched last night. How stupid it is to be in love with your best friend when he or she doesn't even think about you like that in the beginning."

Or in Denver's case, at least - at all. When she met Isabella's pretty blue eyes with her brown, she saw a smile spread across her best friend's face.

"Sheesh, with the affection that goes down between you two, I wouldn't be surprised if you were lesbians," Danny commented. In a flash, Isabella's hand went across his arm with a deep frown.

"Shit like that will get you into heaps of trouble, Messer," she snapped in her cute little Southern accent. Her arm slithered around Denver's waist, pulling her closer. "But we'd make one hell of a couple, wouldn't we?"

The contact of her body didn't go past Denver and she felt her face warm. "Damn straight. Makes you wish you could tap both of us, right?" she snarked. Danny shook his head with a laugh before scratching his jaw.

"Hell, Flack would be heartbroken that he'd lose that little trick to a chick," he replied before walking out of the lab. Isabella pulled away, rubbing the back of her neck. It was the same thing she did when she was uncomfortable or flustered.

"We still on tonight for the geek-end?" she said. Denver nodded mutely and the raven-haired beauty nodded curtly. "Good. See you at eight."

She could only watch as Isabella left the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N: It's time to write some more Sancino! This chapter is dedicated to RaiN-n-Rizzlesgal as a graduation present C: You go, girl!  
><em>**

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><p><em>Us girls, we're so magical<em>

_Soft skin, red lips so kissable_

_Hard to resist, so touchable _

_Too good to deny it_

_Ain't no big deal, it's innocent_

Katy Perry — I Kissed A Girl

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><p>Isabella took a deep breath as she shook her hands in the elevator. In her tote bag were the DVDs for Sweet Valley High and 90210. Marathons like this were a rarity between them nowadays. She shook her hands as she let out more deep breaths. Ever since her little 'realization', things between her and Denver had become awkward. That was something Isabella couldn't stand. When the elevator 'dinged' to signal that she had reached her destination, she stood in the hallway. If she was perfectly honest, the decor in Denver's apartment building was absolutely heinous. The carpeting was something from a charter bus with its black background and loud, vivid print worn down from improper care and lack of maintenance, the maroon walls decorated with golden frames to give the delusion of grandeur.<p>

It was a short walk to reach 4E. Luckily, Denver had much better taste than the half-ass superintendent that owned the building. Her decor was always simple, but reflected her dynamic personality. The walls were painted turquoise, the trim a clean white. Overstuffed furniture littered about the house, not truly having a place. Once you moved it there, it seemed as if it was meant to be there all along.

A dirty blonde head poked out of the bathroom, a neon green toothbrush sticking out of her mouth. "Sorry, I'll be there in a sec!" Denver called. Isabella dropped the white canvas tote on the overstuffed black cloth chair and huffed her bangs out of her eyes.

"Take your time. I brought Sweet Valley High and 90210. Which one do you want first?" Isabella called back.

"Which do you have more of?"

"Sweet Valley High."

"Sounds good!" Denver walked out of the bathroom, her athletic body clad in a pair of light blue skinny jeans and a lime green silk bra. "I'm gonna grab a shirt and I'll be there in a sec."

"Don't get dressed on my account, Sandusky!" Isabella teased halfheartedly as she popped the disc into the DVD player. She walked into the kitchen and opened the door of the white fridge.

"Ha ha, Isabella. We can't all look like lingerie models like you," Denver snarked back. Isabella rolled her eyes as she pulled out two bottles of beer from the top shelf. "What, no comment? Usually, you're all over me with a snarky comeback. You must be going through a drought."

"What can I say, Dens? When I wants to get up on someone, I wants to get up on someone, male or female," she shot back as she sat back down on the couch.

"You're a sex shark and I love it," Denver declared. Of course, watching TV made it that much more difficult as her best friend snuggled into her side.

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><p>"Well, that guy's a jerk. You deserve way better than him anyways," Isabella informed Denver after the marathon was over. Denver always loved it when her friend brushed her hair. The bristles tickled Denver's scalp and her eyes fluttered closed.<p>

"You're probably right," she replied. She tried to swallow back her next words. Her date the night before had been all hands and had ignored her during dinner.

"Should I track him down and beat the fear of Pacino into him?" Isabella asked, her tone one of amusement.

"As long as you don't kill him," Denver replied. "Even if you know all the great body-stashing spots in the city."

"I can make no promises on murder, Den. I'll give him a good tongue-lashing...but not the kind he'd like," Isabella informed her. Denver laughed as she looked up at her. "That's why I don't really date guys anymore."

Denver's eyebrow quirked, leaning her head back into Isabella's lap. "You mean you finally picked what you like better?" she teased. It made what she wanted to say that much easier. She had done research on sexuality and she was neither straight, homosexual, nor bisexual. There was a little known one called pansexuality and she was confident that was what she felt. It meant that she was attracted to whoever she was attracted to because of who they were regardless of gender. She was attracted to Isabella because of who she was, not because she was a woman.

"I've come to the conclusion that the only straight I am is straight-up bitch," Isabella replied lightly as she pulled a hair-tie off of her slender wrist and tied it to the ends of Denver's hair.

"Admitting it is the first step," Denver shot back. Isabella laughed aloud, her head falling back. "See? Being around you made me wittier."

"My mother can die a happy woman; I'm finally a good influence," she giggled. Denver patted her knee and examined the braids her best friend had done. "Look at you, Pippi Longstocking."

"Ha ha, you're lucky my hair always looks good after being braided overnight," she said as she walked into the kitchen. She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. "I think I need some advice on this whole dating thing."

"Oh?" was Isabella's reply. Unfortunately, Denver wasn't a straightforward type of woman; she beat around the bush until she almost forgot her point before it was made. "Dating advice from moi? That's a total laugh."

"I think I really like someone, but I have no clue how to go about telling them," Denver replied, carrying in two more bottles of beer. If she was going to say this right, she needed to loosen up.

"Well, what are they like?" Isabella asked as she accepted the bottle and cracked the top. She watched her with those big blue eyes as Denver sat down on the couch.

"Sorta like Flack, sorta like Danny," she replied. Isabella was a whole lot like Flack and a whole lot like Danny. Of course, she wasn't presumptuous enough to think that was who Denver was talking about. "I've known her for a while now."

Isabella's eyes widened until Denver was sure they would fall out of her skull, her eyebrows disappearing under her bangs. "Her?" she squeaked. "Wait, you're jonesin' for a chick?"

"Trust me, I was just as shocked as you when I made that little realization," Denver muttered, twirling the beer around in the bottle. Normally she hated beer, but it was definitely loosening up.

"Do I know her?" Isabella asked, tilting her head. She was definitely piqued now, her big blue eyes directly on her. "Tell me, tell me, tell me."

"I don't even know if she likes me back," Denver admitted. Isabella growled, leaning back into the sofa. "I'm doing it again, aren't I?"

"Get to the tellin', Sandusky," she commanded.

"Bossy much, Pacino?" Denver shot back. Isabella frowned deeply at her. "Why do you wanna know so bad?"

"Because this chick's gotta be one hell of a woman if she gets your attention," she replied boldly.

"It's you," Denver said quietly.


End file.
